


No Ordinary Letter

by Transposable_Element



Series: Love and Honor [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Calormen, Cultural Differences, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transposable_Element/pseuds/Transposable_Element
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aravis begins the process of reconciling with her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Ordinary Letter

_Aravis Tarkheena, Castle Anvard, Archenland, to Kidrash Tarkaan, Calavar Province, Calormen_

_My honored father,_

_In breaking such a long silence, I realize the need first to assure you that it is indeed I who write to you, rather than an imposter. So I recall what no other has cause to know, how after the death of my mother (on whom be the peace of the gods), you comforted me with the story of The Fisherman and the Three Pearls and told me that I was now your greatest treasure. And you told me that I would one day be reunited with my mother under the wings of the Goddess Ishtelah. It is a memory that has often comforted me during these last six years._

_As you no doubt surmised long ago, the idea of marrying Ahoshta Tarkaan was impossible for me to bear. The sun being dark in my eyes, I first thought of taking my own life, but a wise friend counseled me to flee instead, telling me that in the northern country of her birth no maiden is forced to marry against her will. I owe her my life many times over, and I hope that you may one day meet her, as she is indeed a noble spirit and is among the individuals I love and admire most in the world. Having made my way to Anvard, the court of Archenland, soon after Prince Rabadash’s failed attack (which, as I hope you agree, was a despicable act incompatible with our great traditions of honorable warfare), I was welcomed here by its sovereign, King Lune, although he had every reason at that moment to mistrust and despise any Calormene. Since that time, I have lived at Anvard as a guest._

_You will no doubt wonder whether in this barbarous place I have been ill-used, mistreated, or dishonored; but please be assured that this is not so. The people of Archenland are good and decent, although their ways differ from ours. They would never misuse a maiden, especially one who came to them for refuge, as I did. I have been treated with kindness and courtesy, and I have tried to bear myself with dignity and uphold the principles with which I was raised. It is fair to say, however, that I have also changed. Archenland is my home now, and I do not intend to leave it._

_I regret that I could not write to you before this, but I feared that if you knew where I was you would attempt to force me to return to Calormen and to marry Ahoshta or another man you had chosen for me. Although it grieved me to be separated from you, I could not take that risk. According to the law of Archenland, a maiden remains under the authority of her parents until her 18th birthday, and although King Lune promised to do everything in his power to protect me, there would be nothing he could legally do to stop you if you were determined to force me to return. Although his conscience was troubled by the need for subterfuge, he reluctantly agreed to help me conceal my whereabouts from you until I came of age._

_I write to you now for two reasons. First, as you know, I am now 18. According to the laws of Archenland I am a full adult, able to make contracts and decide where and how I will live. I realize this may seem strange to you, but as long as I am in Archenland, it is true. Any attempt you might make to extract me against my will would be contrary to the law and therefore, I know, abhorrent to you. In consequence, there is no reason for me to continue to conceal my whereabouts. Second, I have lately become betrothed to Cor, the crown prince of Archenland. I know he is not the husband you would have chosen for me; but I have chosen him for myself, now that I am of age. Though a barbarian, he is of royal blood, a skilled warrior, and a hero to his people. So, although I have no need of your permission, I ask for your blessing. That you may have some idea of what kind of man he is, before he would have my answer he assured me that I need not consent to marry him out of any desire for protection, as he and his father would always support my right to determine my own fate, whether I agreed to marry him or no. But he need not have worried about my answer, for I gave him my heart years ago._

_I long to see you, father. I was angry that you contracted a marriage for me without my knowledge or consent, and to a man you ought to have known I would abhor; but I realize that you must have believed that you were acting in my best interest by making a match for me with a powerful man. I can only guess at what distress my flight may have brought you, and I am deeply grieved that such an extremity was necessary. The years of separation have led me to put aside my anger, and I beg you to do the same. If you can forgive me for my deception and my flight, I desire you to travel to Anvard that we may be reconciled, and that you may become acquainted with my betrothed and his father. But if you have no wish to see me, I beg you to write to me that I may know, at least, the spirit in which you have received my letter._

_I also long to see my brother Rishti, who, though I can scarcely believe it, must now be almost a man. I send greetings and love to him and also, if he still lives, to your secretary, Rodit._

_I am entrusting delivery of this letter to Lord Shar of Archenland, Anvard’s arms master and close kin to my betrothed, and to Lord Peridan, Privy Counsellor of Narnia, so that they may see it delivered to your hand. I beg you to treat these good men with all due courtesy. If you will not do so for my sake, be assured that they are under the full protection of the courts of Narnia and of Archenland._

_Father, I await your reply._

 

Aravis labored over her letter for days—had, in a way, been laboring over it for six years—and could not seem to make it come right. One moment it seemed blunt and graceless, the next stuffy and elaborate. First it seemed cold and arrogant; then craven and obsequious. She needed to make her father believe her: that it was she who wrote, that she had made her decision to remain at Anvard and marry Cor free of duress, and that the invitation to her father to come to Anvard was not some kind of trick. It was impossible. Finally she gave up tinkering with the letter and wrote it out clean. It was the best she could do. 

Cor objected only to the description of himself as a skilled warrior. “I’ve never been tested in battle,” he protested. 

“Yes you have,” she replied, “in that skirmish on the border last year.” 

“That wasn’t a real battle.” 

“Shar says it was, and he should know. He says you did very well.”

Edmund had offered to deliver the letter himself, but when they talked it over they decided that this would rather raise Kidrash’s suspicions than lower them. In the end, they decided that Edmund should remain in Tashbaan while Peridan and Shar sailed south to Calavar. Shar, who knew Aravis well, was deemed the most likely to be able to convince Kidrash of the truth of the contents of the letter. In Tashbaan they dragged through the tedious process of arranging safe conduct, since barbarians—Archenlanders in particular, since Archenland still did not have normal diplomatic relations with Calormen—were not allowed to travel freely there. They needed passes and visas, all requiring multiple seals from several different departments of the bureaucracy. This process did not seem to go any faster for a king or his representatives than it did for anybody else. Finally it was done, and Peridan and Shar sailed down the coast the next day. 

When they arrived at Calavar Port they sent a messenger ahead to Kidrash’s estate, a few hours’ ride inland, to ask for an audience. It would not do to surprise him with two barbarians at his gate. Most Calormenes took Peridan in stride—he had dark hair and a short beard, and though tall he was not brawny enough to fit the stereotype of the gigantic barbarian male. Shar, however, was not only tall, heavily muscled, clean-shaven, and very fair-skinned, but red-haired. Cor had told him that he resembled the fearsome demon Baranod of Calormene folklore—white skinned, blue-eyed, with hair made of flame—and when he learned this he finally understood why many Calormenes’ reaction on first seeing him was so extreme. Shar found this amusing, but at the same time it bothered him, just as it bothered him at home when people assumed that he must be hot-tempered just because he had red hair. 

Late in the day another messenger returned with an invitation for them to attend upon Kidrash the next day at noon. The sun was high in the sky as they approached the estate. The main house was stately, but not ostentatious, situated on a low hill flanked by cypress trees, with a vineyard in front coming up almost to the main entrance. There were guards, of course, but unlike many great estates in Calormen it did not have the appearance of a fortress. Grooms came to meet them and took their horses, and a page led them up the marble steps into the house. There they were passed to another attendant who led them through several rooms onto a terrace at the back of the house, overlooking a very pretty bit of green meadow with a small artificial lake. Shar wondered where the necessary water came from. 

Kidrash rose to greet them. He was about 50, slender and wiry, with a narrow, impassive face, a short beard, and jet-black hair with a few threads of silver. Shar saw at once his resemblance to Aravis. Kidrash and Peridan had met a few years before, briefly, in Tashbaan, and Peridan presented Shar to him. He greeted them gravely.

The formalities took a few minutes, after which Kidrash dispatched a servant to bring food and drink. Then he asked “What is the purpose of your visit, my lords? I confess to being intrigued.”

Shar took out the letter. “We are here to deliver this, my lord.”

“An odd errand,” said Kidrash. “That must be no ordinary letter.”

Shar could not think how to answer this, so he handed the letter to Kidrash without comment. The envelope was blank, and Kidrash opened it with no indication of haste. When he read the salutation his expression froze for a moment, and then he looked up at the two northerners. “I see,” he said. “This is indeed no ordinary letter. I will need a moment to read it….” He sat down, holding the letter folded in his lap, and regarded them, waiting. Shar and Peridan turned and walked to the other end of the terrace to give him some privacy, and only then did he unfold the letter. Shar and Peridan stood together, looking at the view without speaking. At one point Shar glanced back and saw Kidrash sitting with his elbow on the table, holding his forehead in his hand, eyes closed. A moment later he straightened up and continued reading. 

After a few minutes the servant returned with food and drink. Kidrash appeared to have finished reading the letter, and Shar and Peridan walked back to the table. The servant poured wine, and as he was leaving Kidrash said to him “Send for Rodit. I need him here right away.”

Kidrash looked at his guests. “Please sit,” he said, “and refresh yourselves.” He took a sip of wine and put his goblet back on the table, appearing to study it. “I’m sure you see my dilemma,” he said, after a moment, looking up and regarding each of them in turn. “Either the contents of this letter are true, in which case you have held my daughter captive for the last six years, or they are false, in which case you are practicing some sort of deception upon me. In either case, you can hardly expect me to trust you.”

“With due respect, my Lord,” said Shar, “If the contents of the letter are true, then your daughter has lived at Anvard these six years of her own free will, as an honored guest. And if we had held her captive, why would we now go to such lengths to tell you about it?”

“An interesting question,” said Kidrash. “Indeed, I have no notion of why you would do so. I can think of no reason why you northern lords would take an interest in me; I am not in the inner circles of power in Tashbaan, and I have never had much to do with foreign policy. Perhaps it is simply that my daughter’s disappearance has given you a good opening for some sort of ruse.”

“My lord—” Shar began.

An old man hobbled out onto the terrace; he was bent with age and clearly infirm, and as he approached Kidrash he made as if to prostrate himself. “Ah, Rodit,” said Kidrash. “Don’t bother with that, it will take you an hour to get back on your feet.” He handed the letter to the slave. “Tell me, what do you think of this?”

Rodit’s response to the letter was much more like what Shar would expect from a father receiving news of a daughter lost to him for six years. He gasped upon seeing the salutation and looked up at the two northerners with an expression of mingled shock and hope. As he continued to read his eyes brimmed, and by the time he finished the letter, tears were streaming down his face into his beard.

“Is it her hand, do you think?” asked Kidrash, who had been watching him coolly.

Rodit wiped his face with his long sleeve and tried to compose himself. “I believe so, my lord,” he said.

“Very well, Rodit, you may sit,” said Kidrash. Then he looked at Shar. “So, you live at the court of Archenland, Castle Anvard,” he said.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then you must know my daughter quite well.”

“I believe so, my lord.”

“And what can you tell me of her?”

“She is in good health and appears to be in good spirits. She is a remarkable young lady, my lord. She has great self-discipline, great strength, great dignity. Now that I have met you, I can see that she resembles you, in manner as well as in looks.” 

Kidrash smiled. “Well, she was never a beauty,” he said.

Shar was taken aback. “Oh. That’s… not what I meant, my lord. I beg your pardon…. Um, she is well-liked at Anvard, and at Cair Paravel.”

“Indeed,” interjected Peridan, “she is a great favorite of our Queen Lucy.”

“I see,” said Kidrash.

“She has learned our ways quickly, but I think I may say that she has not abandoned her upbringing. She has taught us a great deal about Calormen—and she has corrected some of our misperceptions and prejudices about your people,” said Shar. 

“I see,” said Kidrash, again. “And what has she been doing all these years? I cannot think she has been idle.”

“I have not been directly involved with most of her education, but she has studied with the same tutor as the princes, Master Din. The usual subjects—history, heraldry, music, natural philosophy, mathematics. Din was very pleased to have a student who already knew some algebra—in the north very few of us learn any higher maths, you know. I believe he’s taught her geometry and, what is it called, the thing navigators use?”

“Trigonometry,” said Kidrash, with a superior look.

“Yes. I am told that she is diligent, which is easy to believe; she is not one to shirk. She rides well—one of the best riders I’ve ever seen. She has needed no instruction there.”

“We raise horses here,” remarked Kidrash, drily. “That is something you could easily have guessed.”

“I suppose so….She has learned to use an Archenlandish bow—I am the weapons master, so I taught her myself. Our bows are not that different from yours, and she picked it up easily. And, I don’t know if you’re aware, but her elder brother, um, may the peace of the gods be upon him, taught her something of swordplay with the scimitar.”

Kidrash’s eyes narrowed—this was the first thing Shar had said that struck him as evidence of real knowledge of Aravis. But all he said was “Yes, I suspected as much.”

“Unfortunately I don’t know enough about the scimitar to teach her any more; most people wouldn’t think it proper anyway, but if I had the skill I would have liked to teach her. She has talent. If she were a man, she’d make a fine cavalry officer.”

“Hmm.” Despite himself, Kidrash seemed impressed. “And what of this…Prince Cor?”

“He’s a fine young man—honest, brave. I have trained him myself and can vouch for his skill with a sword. His other masters also speak well of him. It is a long story, but he is credited with saving Anvard from the attack six years ago.”

“Rabadash,” said Kidrash, with disgust.

“I see you think as well of him as we do.”

“Many good men lost their lives on his private errand. They deserved better.”

Peridan said “Shar and I were both in the battle that day. The Calormenes fought well and bravely and…I agree, they deserved a better leader.”

Kidrash nodded. “But, this Prince Cor…”

“He is about the same age as the Tarkheena. They have known each other for nearly six years and…well, they seem quite attached to each other,” said Shar.

“And they have lived together in the same household for all that time?”

“Yes.”

“And how am I to know that he has not been crawling into her bed and forcing himself upon her every night? Or, for that matter, that the rest of you barbarians have not violated her at your leisure?” His tone was even, but his mask of composure had slipped; he was angry. Shar realized that for the last few minutes Kidrash had been struggling to maintain his self-control. 

“You have my word—and hers—that nothing of the kind has ever happened. I realize that you think us barbarians, but we do respect a lady’s virtue. King Lune has had the young couple chaperoned very carefully—in fact, they have both complained to me about it. And…” he paused, “I cannot believe that Cor would ever do anything to harm her, or that Ar—the Tarkheena—would permit him to. She is quite capable of defending herself, but rest assured, she has no need to do so.”

Kidrash’s face was once again impassive. “Even an Amazon could not be expected to fight off a fortress full of barbarians for six long years,” he observed.

“My lord…if you will not accept my word that your daughter has been treated with the utmost respect, there is nothing I can say that will convince you.”

Kidrash nodded as if to concede this point. To Shar’s relief, he turned to Peridan. “And your kings and queens of Narnia, they are her friends now?” he said.

“Yes my lord. She has been a frequent guest at Cair Paravel.”

“And they had no thought to return her to her father, as propriety demands? We have had normal diplomatic relations with Narnia for nearly two years. I have met your King Edmund twice in Tashbaan.”

“I believe they see her as a refugee…” said Peridan.

“A refugee from her own father?”

“A refugee from a forced marriage, my lord.”

“Well, apparently they know better than I what is stake,” said Kidrash. Abruptly he got up. “I must think on this. I am still not sure whether to trust in the truth of this letter. You must stay the night. We will discuss it in the morning.” He strode away into the house.

Shar and Peridan both sighed, releasing the pent-up tension of the last few minutes. “They are so much alike,” said Shar. “I’ve seen Aravis behave exactly the same way—she seems completely composed, and then all of a sudden she realizes she’s about to lose control of herself and just walks away.”

“Please,” said Rodit, who had been sitting quietly through this whole exchange. “My Aravis—she is really alive? And well?”

“Yes,” said Shar gently, and then added, very quietly. “And indebted to you for her freedom, I believe.”

Rodit looked alarmed and glanced around furtively. Then he said “Now I know that you tell the truth. Nobody else could have told you how I helped her. But if my master knew…”

“Of course, no more need be said. And…she asked us to buy your freedom, if we could.”

Rodit looked startled. After a moment he said regretfully, “I am an old man. What would I do with freedom? Even a few years ago I would have welcomed it…but now? I will not live long, and I am comfortable here. But I am glad to know she thinks of me.”

“I am sorry we could not have offered you freedom long ago, when it was of more use to you. We do not keep slaves in the north, you know.”

“I have heard this. It is hard to imagine.”

“Yes, I suppose it must be….”

“But,” said Rodit thoughtfully, “There are others here whom it would give me great joy to see freed, if she is willing. My daughter and grandson. Will you carry a letter to her for me?”

“Of course we will carry your letter. But you need not ask her about freeing your family. She authorized us to give the money into your own hands, and how you use it is your choice. I hope it is enough for your needs—we can make up the difference if it is not.” 

Shar drew out a purse of money. Rodit nodded and accepted it. “My lord,” he said, “This is…I am deeply grateful to you.”

“I only wish we could do as much for every soul on this estate. And now, may I ask—“ Shar continued, “how do you read Kidrash Tarkaan’s response to us just now?”

“I think… you should not mistake composure for a lack of feeling. You said yourself, he is very like Aravis, and if you know her, you know that though she has great reserve, she feels things very keenly. I know this well; I was one of the few who ever saw her unguarded, and then only when she was a very little girl. My master is in many ways a hard man, but he loves her and I believe he has grieved her disappearance deeply. He searched for her all over Calormen, and in the islands—but I do not believe that it ever occurred to him that she might be in the north. Even if it had, given the political situation he could not have searched there for her. For years he has feared that she was dead. This letter must be a great shock to him. He blamed his wife for convincing him to marry her to Ahoshta; it caused a breach between them, and her death last summer was scarcely mourned.”

“Ah, the stepmother. She and Aravis—”

“They hated each other. That woman had the heart of a snake. My master is well rid of her.”

Shar was shocked by his bluntness, but said nothing. 

“This Prince Cor,” said Rodit, “I hope he is all that you say, and more.”

“He is my cousin and one day will be my king,” said Shar, “so I am disposed to think well of him. But truly, I think if you saw the two of them together, you would not doubt that they are well matched. Aravis…I think she could only love a man she knew to be her equal.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

At that moment another servant came to fetch Rodit, saying that his master wished to see him in the library. The old man refused Shar’s offer of assistance and struggled to his feet. “I expect my master needs me to find some piece of writing in Aravis’s hand, that we may compare it with the letter. A very thorough man! Thank you, my lords, for your information, and your generosity. I hope we will meet again.” 

A little while later, Aravis’s brother Rishti, a cheerful boy of 14, came out to tell them that his father was occupied, but that he was to entertain them for the rest of the afternoon. Apparently he had heard nothing of his sister’s letter; he was clearly curious about the reason for their visit, but he did not ask any direct questions. Instead he asked many questions about the northern countries and seemed eager to travel there one day to see them for himself. “Well,” said Peridan, “ I hope we will be able to welcome you at Cair Paravel one day.” 

“And at Anvard,” said Shar.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Rishti took them down to the little lake and they all went for a swim. Their host did not appear at dinner. Rishti mentioned his younger sister, Tirivis, who was five years old, but she was nowhere to be seen. Shar surmised that the step-mother must have been pregnant when she schemed to have Aravis betrothed—probably this was part of her motivation for wanting Aravis out of the way—but apparently Aravis had not known about it.

In the morning a servant told them that breakfast was laid on the terrace. Their host was there, and a breakfast of fruit, yogurt, pastries, and tea was set out upon the table. The northerners regarded their host warily, but Kidrash waited for them to sit and to take some food before he spoke. 

“My lords,” said Kidrash, “I regret some of my harsh words yesterday. You must understand that this has been a considerable shock to me. But having read the letter carefully and given the matter some thought, I am convinced that it was written either by my daughter or by someone who knows her very well indeed. And if my daughter were not alive and well at Anvard, I can think of no reason you would want me to visit there. So I think I will, at least provisionally, accept your word about what has come to pass.”

Shar was surprised and relieved. “My lord,” he said “I am very glad to hear it. And…will you be visiting us at Anvard soon?”

“Yes, I think so. As soon as possible, in fact. I am eager to speak with my daughter. Until I do, I will not be completely easy.”

“Yes, of course. I really can’t fathom what this must be like for you. I have no children myself,” said Shar.

“I have two daughters,” said Peridan. “The idea of either of them disappearing is…terrible to contemplate. All things considered, nothing that you said yesterday was unreasonable. And I’m glad that we’ll be able to reunite you with your daughter soon. I know she’ll be overjoyed to see you.”

Kidrash said, “Yes, I…well, I suppose I will just have to wait and see. I hardly know what I will say to her…But, if you will forgive me for concerning myself with incidental matters, I wonder too what the political implications of this situation may be.”

Shar was a bit taken aback, but Peridan said “If it’s politics you’re interested in, you should really speak to King Edmund. He is in Tashbaan awaiting word from us.”

“Indeed. And are you intimates of the Narnian royal family?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” said Shar. “Peridan is head of the privy council and lives at Cair Paravel. And I visit often.”

“Shar is a great friend of the High King’s,” said Peridan, “Very intimate indeed.” Shar smiled blandly. Sometimes Peridan’s wit got the better of his judgement, he thought.

But Kidrash did not seem to have noticed any double meaning. “Well then, I wonder…” he said. “Sometimes I find the actions of these kings and queens rather difficult to understand. I am surprised, for example, that your King Edmund has visited Tashbaan so often in the last two years, given his unfortunate history with our crown prince.”

“I think…he realizes the importance of good relations with Calormen. And he understands that Prince Rabadash, though his father’s heir, does not necessarily embody the will of the Tisroc,” said Peridan, cautiously.

“He may do so more than any of you realize,” said Kidrash.

Shar and Peridan looked at each other. Neither understood what Kidrash was getting at. “I think perhaps you would do well to speak to King Edmund,” Peridan said at last. “He is always interested in unusual perspectives.” 

Kidrash smiled. “I think my perspective may be unique,” he said.

“My lord…” said Peridan, now truly puzzled, “perhaps it would be best if we discussed how to reunite you with your daughter. Any plans for you to confer with King Edmund would surely fall in with plans to bring you to the north.”

Kidrash nodded. “Yes, that is so. When do you plan to return to the north? Since there is no direct travel between Calormen and Archenland, I presume that you will journey first to Narnia, and thence to Archenland.”

“Yes. We plan to set sail from Tashbaan to Cair Paravel in two weeks,” said Peridan.

“Does that allow time for me to send a letter to my daughter ahead of your arrival, that she may meet the ship when we arrive at Cair Paravel?”

“Oh, yes. A letter sent from here should reach Cair in, oh, four to eight days, depending on the ship and the winds. And then a messenger can bring it to Anvard within a day or so.”

“Good,” said Kidrash. “Then, if I may impose, I will set sail with you when you leave for Cair Paravel. Do you think your King Edmund would agree to this?”

“Yes, of course. He will understand your eagerness to see your daughter.” 

“And are you in a hurry to return to Tashbaan?”

Shar laughed. “Not especially. Peridan and I were agreeing last night that we prefer it here. You have a very beautiful estate, and neither of us much relishes city life. But we should probably return as soon as possible, since King Edmund is waiting for news.”

“Well,” said Kidrash, “It will take me a couple of days to ready myself—there are affairs on the estate I must attend to before I make such a long journey. You are welcome to stay here until I am ready to leave, or you may leave sooner if you wish—”

Kidrash broke off as he noticed Rishti walking out onto the terrace. “Ah, my son is awake at last. Rishti, I have some excellent news for you! These northern lords have brought us word of your sister.” It seemed to Shar that Kidrash loosened up noticeably as soon as his son appeared. The man was human, after all. 

Rishti, who had a moment before appeared half asleep, opened his eyes wide. “You know where Aravis is? Is she all right? Is she in one of your northern countries?”

“She is well. She is in Archenland,” said Shar.

“But why are you here without her? Is she coming home? Why did you not tell me yesterday?”

Shar and Peridan smiled at the boy’s excitement, but were unsure how much Kidrash had told his son about the reasons behind Aravis’s disappearance, so they remained silent, thinking it best to let Kidrash explain.

“It seems your sister is not ready to return,” said Kidrash. “And I did not tell you yesterday because I wanted to satisfy myself first that the information Lord Shar and Lord Peridan had given me was correct. I am…reasonably satisfied.”

“Why is she not ready to return?”

“That is complicated. And I am not yet convinced that she will not return. But it appears that if we wish to see her, we must go to her.” 

“And are we going? Soon? How exciting!”

Kidrash laughed. “Sit down and have some breakfast, Rishti. We have much to discuss. But I think we may see Aravis before a month has passed.”

While the father and son talked, Shar and Peridan, who had finished eating, excused themselves and walked along the terrace. 

“Do you think Kidrash really believes us now?” Shar asked.

“Who knows? He’s a hard man to read.”

“Do you think we should go back now, or wait for him?”

“Let’s wait. I can write Edmund a letter, let him know that we may be a few more days; it will get to him as quickly as we could. Quicker, if we send it this morning,” said Peridan. He paused, then asked, “Did you understand any of what Kidrash was getting at just now? About Narnia and Rabadash and the Tisroc?”

“I’ve no idea,” said Shar. “I’ll leave it to Edmund to figure out. Calormene politics are too subtle for me…”

Peridan looked back at Kidrash and Rishti, who were eating breakfast at the other end of the terrace. “All right. But I think we should watch our step with Kidrash,” he said. “He's obviously got his own agenda.”

**Author's Note:**

> Set about six years after the events of _A Horse and His Boy._ As you can probably tell, this is part of a series, not all of which is written yet.
> 
> Key points of the timeline I'm using: Cor was kidnapped at the age of two and a half (in the book it's implied he was an infant, but if he had been much younger than two it would have been hard for Arsheesh to keep him alive without help); as in the book, this was the same year the Pevensies came to Narnia and the Tisroc began his reign. At the time this story takes place, the Pevensies have been in Narnia for 16 years.
> 
> Names: 
> 
> Shar's name is taken from the Hermit's description of the battle at Anvard. He plays a part in a number of my Narnia fanfics.
> 
> The slave who wrote the letter Aravis used to misdirect her father during her escape is not named in the book. I have named him Rodit. It's meant to be pronounced RO-deet.
> 
> Aravis's younger brother isn't named, so I have named him Rishti after one of the ancestors Aravis mentions when telling the story of her escape.


End file.
